


Monday

by Amberstarry



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Chance Meetings, Cold, First Kiss, First Meetings, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Monday - Freeform, POV Dean Winchester, Philosophy, Snow, Students, University, University Students, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 20:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4151523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberstarry/pseuds/Amberstarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of how I met the most clueless, obstinate, awkward, insufferably dorky person on the planet – and fell desperately in love with him.</p><p>I met him on a Monday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monday

**Monday** |ˈməndā, -dē|  
noun  
  
The day of the week before Tuesday and following Sunday.

****

Otherwise known as the bane of my existence. There’s three things I’ve learnt since starting at university: 1) don’t take 8am classes, because you **will** want murder yourself and everyone around you, 2) coffee is the pinnacle of invention and nobody will ever be able to convince me otherwise and 3) you are only as productive as the amount of essays you can churn out in any given timeframe.

 

Words to live by there - if you’re a uni student, that is. You probably think I’m exaggerating, and yeah, I am a bit. It doesn’t mean uni is easy though. See, they don’t tell you all the nitty-gritty details when you’re coming out of high school, about what you’re _really_ getting yourself into when you bid farewell to those four years of hell and take your first steps onto that expansive university campus; you know, the one with the big modern buildings and four different coffee shops all within fifty metres of each other (all of which you will memorise the menus and prices of within the month). No, they don’t tell you anything really and I suppose it's a good thing, because hey, life experience right?

 

Well, I wish somebody had of filled me in before I got lost in the entirely alien world of further education. It would have been nice when I was walking through the campus and the politics club was shoving flyers in my face if somebody had of let me know I’d have to deal with them for the rest of my schooling life there. It would have been helpful if somebody explained how to find the classrooms and lecture theatres in this labyrinth of an education institution; it would have been even better if somebody had of told me where the toilets were. But I digress, I know better than to play the ‘woulda, shoulda, coulda’ game. It would have been nice to be a bit more knowledgeable about what I was going into, sure, but in reality I don’t think anything really could have prepared me for it.

 

Certainly nothing could have prepared me for _him_ , at least.

 

I guess I should tell you who I am before I get into the details of what I mean.

 

There’s not really much to say about me, but for the sake of context I’ll give it a shot. I grew up in Lawrence, Kansas, in a pretty average family with my parents and my little brother, Sammy. I had a happy childhood, messing around with the neighbourhood kids and spending time with my brother; we used to go to the park near our house a lot and Sam would get me to push him on the swings. Boring, I know, but those times are some of my favourite memories precisely because they were so mundane. Life was simple then, and I miss it.

 

I didn’t really have any problems as a child. I was fit, healthy, and I got along pretty well with the other children I interacted with. On the weekends I played football in the junior league and I was fairly decent at it. Being rather small for my age in my pre-adolescence years, it was an impressive feat having a solid hold of the junior quarterback position, but I did, and I was never modest about it: I would parade around in my jersey like a king. Don’t judge me, I was only a kid. I went every weekend to train, and sometimes after school. My dad would come to watch my games and bring Sam along with him; they always cheered me on, it was nice. Eventually Sam joined the junior league too, forming a reputation of his own as a good player. We would practice together at home sometimes, but I personally think I was always just a little better. Unfortunately I lost interest in football after I turned eleven, I guess I had other things on my mind by then – and most of them had something to do with school.

  
My schooling life, unlike my personal life, was more up and down. I was a straight A student in elementary school, all the teachers loved me; I can’t say the same for Middle or high School. The early years were quiet and nondescript as far as storytelling goes. Of course that soon changed. When I turned thirteen and puberty began to set in, so did my penchant for being a complete little shit. I somehow decided that I was sick of authority and that it was my duty to deliberately rebel against it whenever the opportunity arose. I became the adolescent version of an outlaw, skipping class, talking back, and as the years passed my disdain for the education system rose ever higher. The good little boy who played football and always did his homework all but disappeared. My grades suffered, but it was never because I magically lost my intelligence, rather it was because I just _didn’t_ care. I spent the majority of those years skulking around town, wearing leather jackets, flipping the switchblade I bought for twenty dollars at a flea market, trying to be as tough as I managed to convince myself I was. It was an embarrassing phase.

 

Then I got to my junior year of high school and I realized if I wanted to actually get anywhere in life I was going to have to step it up, and fast. Like I said I wasn’t stupid, just lacking in drive. I started to focus on my work and my grades started to come back to their former glory. I also started to realize that rebelling against authority probably wasn’t going to get me much farther than the nearest jail, and as much as I didn’t want to kiss my teachers asses, it was in my best interests to do so anyway.

 

I started to become interested in comics – specifically Batman – shows, videogames, manga and automobiles as a coping mechanism for dealing with the incredibly boring and excessive workload that was thrust upon me. I surrounded myself with figurines, magazines, DVDs – you name it. Sam thought I was crazy (and maybe I am) but it helped a lot to relax me when times were tough, and they often were.

 

I made it through the next two years with impeccable grades and only a few shreds of my dignity in tact. That’s unfortunately what high school tends to do to you though. It was when I graduated that I decided university would probably be an interesting thing to do since I didn’t have any other immediate plans. So I applied to the closest one and got accepted.  
  
That’s where we come back to me whining to you about it.

 

Oh, after all that I forgot to tell you my name. Dean Winchester at your service. I’m twenty-years-old, an avid car lover, a pop-culture junkie and a geek by trade.

 

This is the story of how I met the most clueless, obstinate, awkward, insufferably dorky person on the planet – and fell desperately in love with him.

 

I met him on a Monday.

* * *

  **The Day We Met**

It was a dark, cold February day when we first met. I was walking out of the humanities building toting my satchel packed with textbooks. I’m a Bachelor of Arts student, so I don’t have a specific set of related subjects – I got to pick my own. For some reason I decided upon philosophy, sociology, psychology and Literature. That means about three massive textbooks as well as the prescribed readings for Literature, which translates to a ridiculously heavy bag. Today the strap wasn’t digging into my shoulder as badly as it usually would since I was wrapped in a thick winter coat that hung down to my knees; it was still noticeable enough to make me uncomfortable though. The coat in question was my favourite coat: woolen, grey and double-breasted with black metallic buttons. I always wore it when the weather turned cool enough to do so. It wasn’t a new coat either, I had bought it a few years ago after I spotted it in the window of a small boutique; it was really one of a kind to my thinking.

 

You can imagine my surprise then when I saw another person wearing the exact same coat, just happening to be walking right next to me. Ironically he seemed to notice me at the same time I noticed him, and we both suddenly came to an abrupt halt on the walkway. For a moment we just stared, sizing each other up. He had short dark, cocoa-coloured hair that made his watery, ocean blue eyes pop. Dark circles ringed them, making him look like he had missed several days of sleep. I could see the faint white lines of old scars on his cheeks and forehead, causing me wonder if he had once hurt himself badly somehow. Black stubble trailed down his chin to his neck, it was stark against his pale skin. As we examined each other his dry, slightly chapped lips twisted into an expression of confusion.

 

He looked uncomfortable, and to be honest I felt the same way. Judging by his expression it seemed like he wasn’t going to open those lips for anything; it startled me when he actually did speak. “I like your coat,” he said, in a rough gravelly voice. It was obviously an attempt at humour, but he spoke in such a deadpan manner that it came off more like a statement of fact.

 

I smiled back and nodded. “I like yours too. I’m Dean, nice to meet another person with great taste.” Whatever was going through his head, at least he was nice enough to be polite despite his discomfort; it only seemed fair to return the favour.

 

A blast of chilly air whipped past us, ruffling our hair into disheveled mops. He squinted his eyes to shield them from the elements, the action made him look like he was scrutinizing me. “Yes, it is. My name is Castiel.”

 

“Where are you heading to?” I asked, reaching for some small talk that wouldn’t end the conversation in an unnecessarily awkward way.

 

He shuffled his feet for a second. “To my philosophy class.”

 

That caught my attention. “Really? So am I. Which room are you in?”

 

“Social Sciences one-one-eight,” he paused, “Are we in the same class?” He sounded hopeful, which surprised me once again since I had kind of figured from the beginning that he just wanted to get out of here. It disappointed me when I had to tell him we weren’t.

 

“No, I’m in the Robert Maulkins building on the other side of campus.” I frowned and fell silent, not knowing what else to say.

 

He kept his expression straight. “Oh. Okay then.” He looked away to the left, the direction in which he’d previously been walking. “I suppose I should go then.”

 

I nodded. “Yeah, me too. Nice to meet you.”

 

He rolled his shoulders and nodded, refusing to make any more eye contact with me. “Yes. Nice to meet you too. Goodbye.” He turned on his heel and started walking away. It wasn’t until he had gotten a few steps ahead of me that I noticed his black laptop bag, the black skinny jeans that hugged his slim legs and the shiny black leather boots they were tucked into – all of which complimented the coat excellently.

 

Another gust of wind snapped me back to reality, making me realize I was standing on the walkway staring like a stunned mullet[1]. I hitched the strap of my bag into a better position on my shoulder and resumed walking to my philosophy class. A million different thoughts raced through my mind, but I schooled myself and narrowed them down to the five most important:

 

  1.      The guy had great taste in coats
  2.      His name was Castiel
  3.      We were both taking philosophy
  4.      He was undoubtedly socially awkward
  5.      I really wanted to speak with him again



 

It was really a shame, I thought to myself as I walked through the gardens, that I would probably never see him again. With a university this large you were highly unlikely to cross paths a second time with people who you met by chance. He seemed like he could have been an interesting guy, however awkward our interaction may have been.

 

I thought about our meeting all the way to class, and even after I had sat down, set myself up and the tutor began speaking I found my mind wandering back to Castiel, with his matching winter coat and confused yet longing expression. I had seen so many different types of people in my few months attending university – punks, hipsters, nerds, people with hair dyed all different colours, people in suits, peoples in kilts, people with flowers in their hair, people with piercings, short people, tall people, lanky people, stout people, people with beards, peoples with tattoos, surfer dudes, sport junkies, artsy people, bohemians – yet I had never been as compelled to know more about any of them as I was with this guy. Yeah, it was definitely a shame I would most likely not see him again.

 

I pulled myself back into the present just in time to hear my tutor start questioning the class about Plato’s Symposium. Retrospectively, the topic couldn’t have been any more ironic. Right then though, the day went back to being like any other, and I soon phased out all thoughts of Castiel. It was business as usual.

* * *

  **Second Contact**

It was a few weeks later when I was standing in line at one of the university’s coffee shops that I bumped into Castiel again. I was examining the menu, debating whether I should stick with my usual latte or have a mocha instead. Chatter filled the air, and I felt slightly claustrophobic where I was; yet coffee called, and I was already in line trying to make up my mind anyway, so I wasn’t going anywhere. The line to the counter was substantial, so I knew I had time to weigh all the pros and cons before I was forced to make my decision.

 

I didn’t see him enter, but I felt it when he poked my shoulder from behind. The sudden unexpected contact made me jump in fright. I swiveled around on the spot to see who had startled me so. Immediately my eyes met with a confused and sorry looking Castiel, who tucked his hands into jacket pockets as if trying to keep them as far away from me as possible to somehow make up for my shock.

 

“Sorry, I just thought I’d…” He trailed off, looking more uncomfortable by the second. Maybe he didn’t know what to say, or maybe he just couldn’t bring himself to say it, either way the awkwardness from our previous conversation had seamlessly rolled over into this one as well.

 

I shrugged and scratched my neck. “Don’t worry, I just didn’t know you were here.” I looked at him for a moment. “I didn’t expect to meet you again.”

 

He nodded. “I know. The chances of us being in the same place again were so slim, when I saw you I felt like I should say hello.” He smiled awkwardly. “Hello.”

 

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Hi.” Before I could say anything else the person behind Castiel shouted out to let us know the line was moving. I quickly turned around and moved forward before we caused a traffic jam and people started getting shitty with us. I saw that the people in front of me had finished ordering and were now waiting to receive what they had asked for. “So what coffee do you usually get?” I casually asked as we made our way up to the counter.

 

“I usually get a hot chocolate, actually,” Castiel replied, pulling out his wallet as we approached the counter.

 

“Hot chocolate, huh,” I remarked, pulling my own wallet out, “That actually sounds pretty good. I might go for one too.”

 

The girl at the counter had her blonde hair up in a disheveled bun and a black apron that sported the café’s logo covered her clothes. She typed something into the register before attending to us. “So, what would you like today?”

 

“Two hot chocolates, please,” I said, putting a ten dollar bill on the counter.

 

Castiel, immediately realizing what I was doing, shook his head and picked up the ten dollars before the girl could take it. He held it out to me and attempted to give it back. “I can pay for my own, you don’t have to do this.”

 

“It’s fine. I insist,” I assured, taking the ten dollars and putting it back on the counter. The girl took the money and typed in the order. She told us it was six dollars and handed me back my change.

 

Meanwhile, Castiel looked over at the people waiting for their orders to be filled. His eyes lingered there momentarily but he turned back in time to see me dropping some coins into my wallet. “Thanks, that was really nice of you.”

 

“Don’t mention it,” I told him, folding my wallet back up and stuffing it into my satchel.

 

It took about ten or so minutes to get our hot chocolates and we exited the café together, holding our steaming beverages in our cold hands. The cup felt nice on my skin after walking through the campus in another chilly day’s weather.

 

This particular café opened out onto the university courtyard. It was a square expanse of cobblestoned concrete edged by a number of food shops, banks, a convenience store and the campus bookstore. While these shops took up three of the squares sides, one side was taken up entirely by the university library, an old bluestone building which towered over the other comparatively tiny stores.

 

We made our way over to some free seats near the front of the library. They were a standard wooden bench and table set up, with the legs cemented into the concrete to prevent them from being moved. Both of us sat down on opposite sides of the table and sipped our beverages tentatively so we didn’t burn our tongues. I chanced a glance at Castiel when he wasn’t looking and noticed he was concentrating very hard on his hot chocolate, like it was the most important thing on earth at this particular moment. I was kind of amused by his seriousness.

 

Finally he placed his hot chocolate on the table and looked at me, he didn’t notice that I was already looking at him. The serious expression on his face dissipated and he seemed to relax slightly – but only slightly, he was still obviously tense just being around me. “So, what classes do you have today?” He asked me, fiddling his thumbs together on the table.

 

“I actually finished my last class just before, it was sociology. What about you?” I watched interestedly as he fidgeted on the spot. I felt like a scientist making observations on an experiment, but I couldn’t help it, everything about Castiel fascinated me. His every action captivated my sense of intrigue.

 

He flickered his eyes down at the table, up at me, then back to the table again. “I have Journalism in about an hour,” he said so softly it could have almost been a whisper. It was odd to hear such a gravelly voice be unmistakably wobbly with uncertainty.

 

I nodded, keeping my eyes firmly on his nervous face. Maybe I was being too casual, but I couldn’t help it, that was just the way I was. If he didn’t like the way I socialised, well, he shouldn’t have approached me in the café.

 

The campus clock began to chime signaling another hour had passed. The _dong, dong, dong_ echoed through the courtyard and over the amalgamation of voices surrounding us. I lifted my cup to my lips and took another sip. The taste of hot sugar flooded my mouth; it was a good call buying hot chocolate.

 

“So what else are you interested in? Besides philosophy and sociology,” Castiel asked, ignoring in the loud chiming.

 

I chuckled and shrugged. “I’m a bit of a pop-culture enthusiast. Movies, anime, videogames – all that stuff is pretty awesome.”

 

Castiel’s face visibly fell a bit. I was about to ask him what was wrong when he spoke: “The only anime I know is Pokemon.”

 

A laugh escaped me as I threw my head back. “You’re such a dork!” When I settled back down and rested my eyes back on him, I could see the blood that had visibly risen in his cheeks. He looked away, seemingly at nothing, and cleared his throat.

 

“I think I should get going now,” he said, slipping the strap of his bag over his neck.

 

I was slightly disappointed that he wanted to leave already, it must have been something I said. In any case there wasn’t much I could do besides sip my hot chocolate and accept it. “Oh, okay then.”

 

“It was nice talking to you again,” he told me as he stood up from his seat.

 

“Yeah, it was nice talking to you too.”

 

He shot me an awkward smile and began to walk away, presumably to wherever his next class was. I watched him as he disappeared in amongst the crowd of students milling around the courtyard. After this encounter I was sure we would meet again, this time sooner rather than later, and I found myself anticipating that instance.

 

I downed the rest of my hot chocolate, which by now had cooled enough to do so, stood from my seat, deposited the cup in the bin closest me and headed for the bus stop.

* * *

  **Close Encounters of the Third Kind**

The library at my university is as vast as it is indecipherable. Inside the somewhat intimidating bluestone, it has three floors: the first, which is for general study is quite loud and where I usually stay. The second level is the quiet level, nothing above a soft murmur can be heard there, but you won’t get lynched for speaking; there’s also a computer lab there which is pretty handy - I go up there sometimes when I need to use it. Then you have the third floor which is the silent level - you can hear a pin drop up there - and it’s pretty unnerving. I steer clear of that level if I can help it. This is a good thing, because if I did go up there, I wouldn’t have come across Castiel sitting at a desk on the first level.

 

I was trying to find a place to sit, somewhere preferably with a charger for my laptop, when I saw my dark-haired acquaintance sitting near a window by himself. The window extended from the floor all the way up to the ceiling, allowing the dim overcast light to shine in, casting a shadow over the floor in front of where Castiel sat. Now the library is quite large, and there were many other places I could have sat, so I deliberated for a minute on if I should go up to him. _He was the one who approached me before, so it should be fine to approach him_. At least one would think so anyway. I had frozen on the spot in the middle of the floor, watching Castiel as he worked; he appeared to be reading a textbook of some sort and writing notes. _Maybe I shouldn’t disturb him_ one part of my mind said, urging me to keep moving. _You know you want to talk to him_ pushed the other part, cajoling me over. That voice was more insistent, and it didn’t take long for me to start tentatively making my way over, trying to be nonchalant about it all.

 

When I got close enough I cleared my throat, causing him to look up with a start. He seemed shocked but once he registered who I was his eyes softened. “Hello, Dean.”

 

“Hey Cas.” The nickname came to me naturally, and I didn’t even realize I had used it until Castiel gave me a curious look. I ran over what I had said in my head and began to apologsise. “Sorry, I mean Castie-“

 

“Cas is fine,” he interjected before I could finish. He smiled at me, the first non-awkward smile he had given me, and gestured to the seat opposite him. “Sit down, we can study together.”

 

“Thanks.” I slid my bag off my shoulder and plopped it on the ground underneath the table. As I sat down I now had a clearer view of the book Cas had been reading. It was an economics textbook and I could see lots of numbers scattered over the page. “You take economics?”

 

“Yes, but I’m starting to regret it.” He put down his pen and massaged his left temple. “I thought this was going to be more interesting than it actually is.”

 

“You don’t really know what you’re getting into until you do it,” I said, pulling my philosophy books out. “Maybe you just need a break from it.”

 

He nodded. “Maybe.” He glanced at my book and pointed to it. “Have you started those questions they gave us? The ones about the types of love in the Symposium?”

 

I kept my eyes on my bag as I extracted my pens and water bottle. “Yeah, they’re pretty easy.”

 

“I’m finding them quite difficult,” Cas rejoined.

 

As I was putting my pens on the table I saw he looked quite disheartened. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

 

“That would be much obliged,” he sighed, picking up his own bag off the floor. He rummaged through it for a few moments and pulled out what I recognized as the philosophy textbook. Meanwhile, I moved around the table to sit next to him. He opened the book and laid it on the table, pointing to a subheading. “We’re supposed to define Platonic love, right, but I just don’t get it.”

 

Indeed, the subheading read _Platonic Love_ and had a description of how it was spoken about in the Symposium by the philosophers. I quickly scanned over the first paragraph and looked up at Castiel. “Well, it’s love that’s not sexual or romantic in nature. Like the love for Family, or between friends or the love you might feel for a pet.”

 

Castiel nodded. “That makes sense.” He paused. “So, any love that’s non-sexual?”

 

“That’s how I understand it,” I replied. I looked back down at the textbook and began musing aloud about the subject matter: “The Symposium is pretty interesting, isn’t it? I mean, the different types of love, the discourse about happiness. What is love? Does it depend of the presence of absensce of happiness? Damned if I know.”

 

“You’re damned if you don’t and damned if you do,” Castiel quipped, picking his pen up and scribbling something down something in his exercise book. Without looking up at me he continued. “I mean, so I’ve heard anyway. I haven’t experienced it for myself.”

 

I pulled out my laptop and opened it up. “You haven’t been in a relationship?”

 

Castiel shook his head.

 

I looked over at him and smiled. “Neither have I. It’s probably overrated anyway.”

 

He laughed. “Yeah.”

 

Cas was full of surprises. He came across as so shy and withdrawn that it was a shock whenever he divulged anything personal; even when he told me his uni subjects it seemed hard for him to do, talking about relationships or his lack thereof was on a completely different level. The fact that he was starting to feel comfortable enough to share something like that must have meant he was getting more comfortable with me. It made me feel warm inside. I didn’t usually pay much heed to peoples reactions to me, as evidenced by my teenage years, but I really wanted Castiel to like me, and it made me glad that he did. My brain questioned why this was – it didn’t really matter in the scheme of things, he was just another person who would probably be of little consequence, and yet he wasn’t. He was an anomaly that I couldn’t shake off my back; he kept on popping up in my life just when I thought I’d never see him again. What’s more, I wanted him to keep popping up in my life; I wanted to get to know him, to figure him out. I wanted to peel away those layers of shyness and understand what made him tick. The weirdest thing about it was that I had never wanted to do this with anybody else; I had this strange compulsion towards Castiel only.

 

I opened up a word document and began typing up my answers for philosophy. I could think about that later, right now I had to get this homework done. My fingers flew across the keyboard as I started to write my work up. As much as I tried not to, I couldn’t help chancing a glance at Cas every now and again. He was absorbed in his work and I went back to my own fairly quickly. Soon an hour and a half passed and I realised I had to pack up and go to my next class. I closed my laptop and started putting things back into my bag. It didn’t take long for Cas to notice and pause his work.

 

“Where are you going?” He asked, watching me as I gathered my things.

 

I stuffed my pens into my bag. “I’m sorry but my psychology class is starting. I have to get a move on.”

 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him tap his pencil against his cheek absently as he stared at me. I obviously couldn’t make out his exact expression because I was focusing on getting my belongings in my bag, but he seemed pensive. “Do you want to study together tomorrow?” he ventured, his voice tentative with uncertainty.

 

My hands came to a halt and I looked up at him. He held my gaze resolutely, despite the quivering tenor of his request. Usually I wouldn’t be at uni on a Thursday, but the offer was too tempting to refuse. I grinned and nodded once. “Of course, Cas.”

 

He broke out into a small smile. “Great, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

 

“Yep, see you tomorrow,” I replied, standing up and grabbing my phone.

 

I left the library feeling good. Knowing that I would get to see Cas again the next day excited me. There was definitely something different about this relationship, and so far I was relishing every morsel of it.

* * *

  **Fourth time’s the Charm**

It wasn’t until I got on the bus later that day that I realized Cas and I hadn’t made a time to meet up, nor had we swapped numbers or any contact details to arrange one. The happy feeling I left Cas with drained away and became replaced with worry. How would we find each other? What if we didn’t? I hated the thought of missing Cas because of a lapse in organization. Yet what could I really do? As I sat on the bus my brain turned over various scenarios of the next day where I couldn’t find Cas anywhere; in some I asked strangers if they knew him, in others I simply sat down in the library and carried on with my work alone. Either way it was an embarrassing and unsatisfactory ending. These thoughts played out in my head like scenes from a Hollywood drama, equally as over the top as they were saddening, and it continued for what felt like hours before a solution randomly came to me.

 

I must have been about hallway home when I thought to look him up on Facebook. I mean, how many people living in Kansas were named Castiel? Probably none besides Castiel himself, if I was being honest I had never heard the name before meeting him. It was the perfect plan – search him up, add him, and then simply ask when he would like to meet up. Of course this all hinged on the assumption that Cas had a Facebook account, but since it was really my only hope, I was hedging all my bets.

 

When I arrived home I dumped my bag in the passageway and began up the stairs to my room. My house was a large, double story one, with a plain cream and white colour scheme. The walls were decorated with photos of family and friends, and the carpets were a rich royal blue. I wasn’t paying much attention to the house however. I seemed to be blocking out everything that wasn’t part of my mission to get in contact with Castiel, because I didn’t even notice my brother, who was at the head of the stairs, was talking to me until I got close enough for him to wave a hand in front my face and get my attention.

 

Sam was five years younger than me, but looking at us you wouldn’t know it. Somewhere down the genetic line things went haywire and he became a giant, standing about a head and a half taller than me, while I had been left in the dust growth-wise. Keep in mind that he was in his last year of middle school, and I was at university. We also looked quite different, and it was hard to pin us as brothers if you didn’t already know it. While my hair was a dirty blonde and short, and I had a fairly solid build, Sam was thin, lanky, and had chestnut shoulder length hair that I personally couldn’t stand. I had offered to trim it a number of times, but he was adamant that he wanted it that way. One feature we did share were our forest-hued eyes, although Sam’s were slightly darker than mine; we got that particular gift from our mother. Usually Sam could be found in a plaid shirt and blue-washed denim jeans, but right now he was in his pyjamas (a white shirt and some grey sweatpants) and looking at me pointedly.

 

“Are you okay, man?” He asked, letting his arms fall flat at his sides.

 

I raised an eyebrow and put my hands on my hips. “I’m fine, what makes you think otherwise?”

 

“Uh, maybe the fact that I started talking to you when you were at the bottom of the stairs and you didn’t even look at me until I almost wacked you in the face,” he rejoined, holding my gaze.

 

I shrugged and rested one of my hands on the stair railing. “I don’t know what to tell you, I’m good, and I’m sorry I didn’t respond to you before. What is it that you want anyway?”

 

Sam brushed his hair back and put his hands in his pants pockets. “I was just letting you know that mum and dad went out to dinner and probably won’t be back until late. Also I’m not making you dinner.”

 

“I can make my own dinner,” I said, acting offended at the idea that I wouldn’t.

“Yeah, that’s what you said to mum and dad last time before I ended up making us pizza,” Sam backhanded, not having any of my bullcrap.

 

I shrugged again and nodded in defeat. “You got me there, can I go to my room now?” Sam rolled his eyes and stepped to the side so I could pass him. “Go and do something constructive now, Gigantor,” I remarked as I made my way to my room. I heard Sam huff in protest behind me and I giggled at the inevitable response he threw at me as I walked down the hall:

 

“Screw you, Dean!”

 

“Love you too, Sammy.”

 

“My name is _Sam_.”

 

“Whatever you say, Sammy.”

 

If Sam said anything else to me, it was muffled by the sound barrier created by the walls of my room. Speaking of which, they were covered in posters from my favourite movies and bands. In the corner of my room I had a bookshelf filld with books as well as figurines, games, movies and CD’s. Next to that was my bed, covered in a batman duvet cover and pillowcase. On the other side of the room sat my desk that housed my computer, which is what I made a B-line for. I wasted no time in sitting down at my computer and logging into Facebook. I was immediately greeted with the ramblings of the myriad of friends I already had on there, but they were not my concern right now. I didn’t bother to look at my news feed and instead went straight to the search bar. I typed in ‘Castiel’ and began scrolling through the people that popped up. His picture was the third one from the top; I recognized his dark hair and piercing blue eyes automatically. Quickly, I clicked on his profile to confirm it was him.

 

His timeline appeared and I noticed he didn’t have many friends. He must have been one of those people who didn’t use Facebook very much, and I couldn’t blame him, it wasn’t really anything special. I just hoped that he would see my message before tomorrow. Out of curiosity I clicked on his photos and began to look through them. There were a few pictures of him with his family; it appeared he had a single dad, with short, curled, mousy-brown hair who looked a bit neurotic. He also had three brothers: A blonde one with a very cheeky smile, one with jet black hair who looked pleasant enough, and one who had many scars over his face – ones that were much more noticeable than Castiel’s. Going by the tags he had attached to the photos their names were Gabriel, Michael, and Luci; Luci must have been short for something, but as much as I tried to work out what it might be, no names came to mind.       

 

I continued and discovered some pictures of him beekeeping, as well as at a comic convention with a friend named Charlie. So he was into pop culture too. I kept going through his photos until I ran out of new ones to look at. I managed to waste an hour doing that, and I felt slightly embarrassed, but once I knew I had exhausted Castiel’s photos I went back to the task at hand. I returned to his timeline and sent him a friend request, along with a message that read:

 

_Hey, it’s Dean from uni. We forgot to make an actual time to meet tomorrow, I don’t want to miss each other so if you see this let me know what time is good for you._

I sent it off and wondered how long it would take for him to respond. To my surprise, almost instantaneously my friend request was accepted and a few minutes later I got a response to my message. I clicked on my inbox and read the note from Cas:

 

_Hello, Dean. I’m sorry I didn’t specify a time that was my fault. Is 1 in the first floor of the library okay?_

 

Beyond ecstatic that I had gotten a response so quickly, I typed in that one o’clock was fine faster than I had ever typed before. I received a smiley face back and felt so relieved that I had not missed my chance to be with Cas again. With that thought in mind, I got off the computer, put my tracksuit pants on, and hopped into bed looking forward to what was coming tomorrow.

  
  
********

 

I woke and raced to uni the next day more enthusiastically than I ever had before. The weight of my books and laptop didn’t even bother me as I walked through the campus – my mind was solely focused on seeing Castiel, and what else I might find out about him today. The chill winds blew into my face, but I could care less, the library was in my line of sight and my heart started to race.

 

When I walked in I found Castiel standing in the foyer looking at his phone, he didn’t look up until I was only a few feet away from him, but when he did, he smiled. I noticed he was wearing the jacket identical to mine again, and grinned. “Nice jacket,” I joked, pointing at it.

 

He blushed slightly and laughed. “Thanks.”

 

We found a spot to sit and began studying like we had been the day before. After a while Castiel looked up and pointed to another subheading in our philosophy textbook entitled _Eros._

“So if Platonic love is non-sexual, Eros _is_ sexual. It’s romantic love.”

 

I nodded. “I’m pretty sure that’s where the term ‘erotic’ came from.” I pointed to some of the other headings. “Agape, Storge, Philia, the Greeks had so many different types of love. I guess it’s a hard concept to define.”

 

Castiel went to move his hand back but he misgauged how much he should have lifted it to avoid bumping into mine, and he ended up running his fingers over the back of it. I felt a shiver run through me at the subtle touch and my eyes automatically flicked over to his face where I caught him looking right back at me. We stared at each other for a minute or so before I turned away and cleared my throat. I picked up my pen and continued with my homework silently, refusing to make any more eye contact with him.

 

It is probably worth noting at this point that I had identified myself as most likely being bisexual towards the end of my high school career. It had never been much of a worry to me at the time because I had never gotten close enough to any girls, or indeed guys, to warrant any heavy thought on the subject. I kind of just came to the conclusion by gut instinct and what I naturally fantasised about. That being said, the brief physical contact I had just shared with Cas was making me re-evaluate that assumption which I had pushed aside so inconsequentially.

 

I swallowed hard and concentrated on the writing utensil in my hand, which I was gripping so tightly my knuckles were turning white. My fascination with Cas was starting to make a lot more sense now, and so was my excitement. Somehow I had never factored in that I might be crushing on this dorky, fairly attractive guy that continued showing up in my life.

 

 

Unfortunately, everything also suddenly felt a lot more complicated. I had really only just met Cas so I couldn’t make any moves. At this stage it would just make everything very uncomfortable. I desperately wanted to continue my friendship with Cas but I now felt like it would be easier if I quitted now while I was ahead. There was no telling how Cas felt about me, he probably just saw me as a nice guy who he met through uni. No more than a casual acquaintance. I didn’t want to make him feel bad for not returning my stupid little obsession, and lets not beat around the bush here: it _was_ an obsession. Nobody looks through every single one of a persons Facebook photos for an hour straight on a whim. The fact that I had been thinking about him since the day we met also put things into perspective. No, it would just freak him out. I couldn’t say a word.

 

There was a notable change in the atmosphere between us, and I knew that Cas must have been feeling pretty confused and uncomfortable. With some effort I unclenched my fist and dropped my pen on the desk. I began picking up my books to put them away. Still refusing to make eye contact, I focused on my hands as they grabbed objects here and there. “I have to go,” I told Castiel evasively before he could question my actions.

 

From what I could make out in my peripheral vision, he frowned and sat up straighter. “What? We just sat down.”

 

I nodded as I closed an exercise book. “Yeah, I just remembered something that I have to do. I’m really sorry.”

 

Despite our general lack of familiarity with one another, I think Cas knew that I was blatantly lying. I could feel the disappointment radiating off of him, the situation seemingly deteriorating more with each second that passed. I soon had everything together again and in my bag, a weird feeling since I had emptied it only minutes previously. The whole time I could feel Castiel’s eyes on me, and I felt an incredible sense of guilt in what I was doing, but I didn’t want things to be weird. I really didn’t.

 

I stood and nodded. “Okay, I guess I’ll see you later then.”

 

Cas’ face stayed completely blank. He managed one curt word. “Yeah.”

 

His response only made me feel worse than I already did. I shot him an awkward nerve-twisted smile and began my journey out of the library. I didn’t know where to go or what I was doing, I just knew I had to get out of there. I didn’t let myself look back, but I knew his gaze was boring into the back of my head as I scurried away like the pathetic rodent I was.

 

What had I gotten myself into? That was the immediate thought I had after I walked through the automatic doors and the bitter cold air hit me in the face. The only thing I had succeeded in doing was cutting off my nose despite my face, in front of a person who could have potentially been a good friend. I hung my head in shame and headed towards the bus stop. Again.

* * *

  **The Intervention**

About three weeks passed after that day where I didn’t see or hear from Castiel. I couldn’t bring myself to seek him out, even if a part of me was screaming to rectify the situation as soon as humanly possible. The disquiet in my head cost me most of my sleep, as well as my appetite and desire to leave the house. The poor upkeep of my physical health soon began to show; I became reminiscent of a walking corpse – pale, tired and above all: forlorn.

 

I never knew that a single person could become the center of another’s universe so deeply merely being absent created a void that refused to be filled. The revelation that I was attracted to Castiel had taken over me so completely that I was starting to loose the ability to function like a normal human being. How could I have gone from being absolutely clueless to a pitiful lovesick mess? By all accounts it didn’t make any sense.

 

Apparently I shared this sentiment with Sam, because one day when I was moping my way into the kitchen to attempt putting some sustenance in my body, he stopped me in the hallway and pulled me to the side with a concerned look:

 

“Dude, what’s going on with you? You’ve been acting really weird lately and you look dead!” He flashed me with his worried puppy-dog eyes and I almost broke right away.

 

I yanked my arm out of his gasp and gave him a confused look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m absolutely fine.”

 

Sam frowned and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. “Okay, define ‘fine’ then, because so far all I’ve seen is a depressed mess for the last three weeks.”

 

“I don’t know what to tell you, I’m peachy,” I insisted, throwing my hands up in the air. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to your teeny-bopper crap or something?”

 

“I resent that remark.” He sighed. “Look, I’m really worried about you. You haven’t been eating and you look like you haven’t slept in at least a week. Something is wrong. I know it. Just tell me.”

 

He shot me with an expression so sincere that I couldn’t dodge the third degree any longer and still keep a good conscience. I let my muscles relax, and to Sam I bet I looked like I had deflated in front of him like a balloon. “Okay, you got me. There’s this…. Guy that I met at uni. He’s really dorky, and awkward and nice. I really like him. Like _really_ like him.”

 

I had never told Sam I was attracted to both girls and guys, but if he was surprised he didn’t show it. He simply shrugged and continued looking confused. “Okay. So what’s the problem?”

 

I hesitated for a moment. Was I really ready to tell somebody? God knew I had been holding it in for long enough, and I wasn’t getting anywhere by stewing in my own sorrows. It felt like such a blunder though, so positively stupid that even the process of uttering it caused the execution of several brain cells. I swallowed. Sam stared at me with those wide, unassuming eyes. I knew it was now or never. “Well, I kind of freaked out and ran away. I haven’t spoken to him in weeks. He probably doesn’t even think about me anymore.”

 

“You’re making assumptions,” Sam responded. “Assumptions are the root of all evil. You think bad things, you start to feel bad and that in turn makes bad things happen. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

 

I pressed my lips together. “Well thank you Freud, that’s very helpful. It doesn’t exactly change anything though.”

 

He scowled at me. “Hey, I’m trying to help you. If you’re that into this person, why don’t you contact him again? If he’s as nice as you say he is, he’ll probably forgive you for the radio silence.”

 

We held eye contact for about a minute in silence, him watching me expectedly, and I mulling over his advice. I wanted to speak to Cas again, but it just wasn’t that simple. I had no way of contacting him sans over the Internet, and Internet communication was such a fickle thing. He could easily ignore my messages, or see them and simply not respond. If that happened, I knew my mood would fall even lower.

 

I shook my head. “No, I can’t. You just don’t understand, Sam. It’s complicated.” I walked past him and into the kitchen. Yet again I wasn’t hungry, but at this point I welcomed anything that might distract me from the lull I had fallen into.

 

Sam followed me and sat down at the bench as I began rummaging through the fridge. “You’ll just keep feeling like crap if you don’t try and fix it.”

 

I elected to ignore his comments and focus on the food in front of me. There was a carton of milk, some tomatoes, a bag of carrots, some leftover chilli and and packet of ham in here. The chilli seemed like the easiest option so I snatched it out and walked over to the microwave. Sam watched me as I threw it in and set the time. I felt like crap, I looked like crap, and now I had a fifteen-year-old following me around like a lost puppy because he was so worried.

 

Good job, Dean.

* * *

  **You Can’t Avoid the Unavoidable**

It was a brutally cold day. I was walking out from my Literature class. I got the absolute fright of my life.

 

I was going down an alleyway between buildings that cut through to the courtyard when somebody grabbed my shoulder and stopped me in my tracks. I had had my head down so I wasn’t even aware that I had passed anybody, and I was pretty damn sure that every single muscle in my body tensed at the same time when I felt the hand grip my shoulder bone. The grip in question was firm but not rough. It didn’t really matter though, because my mind already had a distinct reflex reaction to the touch. A sense of shock and fear ran over me. I slowly lifted my head and turned to the offender, knowing as I did so that I was probably not going to like what I saw.

 

When our eyes met my worst fear had been confirmed. It was Castiel, expressionless and stoic. His body language indicated nothing but calm determination. He stood firmly with his own shoulders back, his head high and feet apart. It was a far cry from my crumpled posture, with my head bowed and arms pulled in tightly to my torso for warmth.

 

I forced a smile onto my face and waved a friendly hand at him. “Hey, Cas! Long time no see.”

 

He released my shoulder and I took this opportunity to fully turn my body around. He seemed sobered somehow, which made me nervous. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he stated frankly in a monotone.

 

It seemed every plan of action I had made lately was flipping on its head. I thought avoiding Cas would be easy, but now even that had come back and bitten me on the ass. I briefly thought that maybe Sam had been right that day, and I should have contacted him before this happened. It might have been awkward then but it couldn’t have been any worse than this.

 

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” I said, putting on the best act I could. “I’ve just been super busy, that’s all. I’ve actually been meaning to contact you.”

 

Cas flicked his eyes away from me. “You don’t have to lie. I understand if you don’t want to be around me, but there’s just one thing I’d like to know. What did I do to drive you away so suddenly? I want to know so I can avoid doing it again with other people.”

 

I waved my hands in a dismissive gesture. “I’m telling you that you didn’t do anything!”

 

He pursed his lips together doubtfully.

 

I didn’t want it to be this way. I had no idea that Cas would blame himself for my actions, I didn’t think he even held me in high enough regard to care if I disappeared. I couldn’t let him go on thinking he had driven me away though; it would be cruel to let him do that. I sighed and looked down at the ground. “You didn’t do anything to drive me away. It was the exact opposite, actually…” I hesitated for a moment. Castiel stayed silent. I shuffled my booted feet around on the cobbled ground. “I really, _really_ like you Cas. I was afraid that if I kept hanging around you any longer I would just make things weird. I thought you’d probably get uncomfortable. So I removed myself.”

 

There was a palpable silence after I spoke. The desire to dig a large hole, curl up in it and then cover myself with dirt was increasing by the second. It felt like an eternity before Castiel finally responded.

 

He cocked his head to the side quizzically. “Why would that make things weird?”

 

“Well, you don’t think of me in the same way. I didn’t want to burden you, I suppose.” This comment was met by more silence, and I felt the remaining shreds of my dignity sadly ebbing away. My eyes examined the ground, studying each individual pebble and piece of grit below me, trying to ignore the penetrating stare that Castiel was surely shooting at me. I noticed snowflakes floating into my eye-line after a while, sinking down to join the dirt and rocks I was so intently observing. After what seemed like hours I couldn’t take any more; I finally lifted my head to chance a glance at his facial expression. I reasoned that maybe I could gauge the severity of the situation by how pissed off he looked out of ten.

 

As I did so, he grabbed the lapels of my coat (which happened to be the one we were both wearing on the day we met) and slammed me against one of the walls of the alleyway. I gasped in shock at the violent thrust that threw me against the brown brick wall and, for the first time since we had bumped into each other that day, looked straight into Castiel’s eyes. Somehow I managed to notice the white specks of ice that had landed on his dark hair, but which didn’t seem to be phasing him. I imagined what I looked like at this moment, shocked, pink-cheeked, covered in snowflakes. I must have been a mess.

 

Cas moved quickly, faster than my brain allowed me to process his actions. One minute we were staring each other down, me with wide, fearful eyes, uncertain of what was happening; and him, seeming strangely resolute and calm considering what had just happened. Then, his lips were on mind, and the entire world went blank – save for the snowflakes gently falling around us.

 

People could have been passing, the clock in the courtyard could have started chiming, I could have dropped my books all over the ground, heck, a meteor could have fallen to earth right next to us and I wouldn’t have had any idea because the feeling of Cas body pressed against my own and our lips interlocking was everything in that moment. Nothing else existed. It was only Cas and I.

 

It suddenly occurred to me that for Cas to be doing this, he must have reciprocated my. Small fireworks went off in my brain rejoicing. I had been such an idiot, yet somehow things had worked out better than I ever could have hoped. Did I mention that being pressed up against a wall by Cas felt infinitely right, like I should have been doing this all along? Because it did, it really did. I don’t know how long we stayed like that, but it didn’t matter because even if we had stayed in the same position for one hundred years I probably still wouldn’t have been satisfied.

 

When Cas pulled back and sucked in a deep breath, I was disappointed. The world abruptly came back into focus. The faint cacophony of sound drifting over from the courtyard met my ears. The sting of the snowflakes landing and melting on my nose jolted through me. The bitter cold air once again slapped me in the face. I was aware we weren’t alone, it was fucking cold, and we were in an alleyway, and I longed to go back to the place I had just been in.

 

The same thing must have happened to Cas, because he pulled the collar of the beige trenchcoat he was wearing tighter around his neck. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his cheeks pink from embarrassment as well as the cold. “That was very forceful of me, I shouldn’t have done that.”

 

I shook my head. “No, that was perfect.” I tensed as soon as I said that and looked down awkwardly. How cheesy could this be?

 

Cas laughed and waved a hand for me to follow him. We started walking out of the alleyway towards the courtyard. “Come on, let’s go to the library and study together,” he said, smiling at me.

 

I nodded and followed, soon falling in line next to him. “Still having trouble with the types of love?” I asked, shifting the strap of my bag higher on my shoulder.

 

“A little,” Cas replied, “Tell me, if Eros is erotic love, and Platonic love is love without sexual attraction, then what is this?” He gestured to himself and then me.

 

“This? Confusing, for one thing,” I quipped, shooting him a lopsided grin. “But if I had to guess, I’d say Agape.”

 

“Agape?”

 

“Selfless love. Love for another. Love that is complete,” I explained, reaching over to dust the snowflakes of Castiel’s hair.

 

He nodded. “That sounds right. Agape it is.”

********

 

I’m glad that the Greeks have so many names for love, because it makes it easier to know what happened with Castiel and myself. First it started off as Philia (love between friends) but eventually grew to something much more meaningful.

 

Did I mention that the day we kissed was also a Monday? That probably means something. I don’t like to assign meanings to things willy-nilly, but I believe there was something at work there.

 

I suppose Monday is a lot of things. It’s annoying, it’s tiresome, and yes, it’s still the bane of my existence; but when you come down to it there is something special about Mondays: they’re a beginning.

 

And that Monday I met Cas? Well that was the beginning of something beautiful. ~~~~

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [1] Stunned Mullet – For those of you not residing in Australia, a stunned mullet is slang for somebody who is staring off into space either because they are astonished/amazed or daydreaming/not alert. 
> 
> Oh. My. God. 
> 
> I started writing this fic aaaaagggggeeessss ago, but so many things got in the way of me completing it. Now that I'm finally on a break I managed to wrap it up! Yay! 
> 
> I feel like the fanfic world is in desperate need of more University-centered fics, I don't think I've ever seen one! Uni students needs love too ya know! Anyway, I think this fic does nicely. Tell me what you think! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it :)
> 
> Amber***


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